


ratings grab

by Duck_Life



Category: X-Factor (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mojoworld, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Revolution, i didn't attend this but this is pretty hunger gamesy rip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27397312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: Adam-X and Shatterstar pretend to be together in order to maintain their alliance.
Relationships: Adam Neramani/Shatterstar
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	ratings grab

They’re never  _ not _ airing. There is no red sign that flashes off once a fight concludes. When Shatterstar and Adam-X leave their arenas, swarms of cameras chase after them. Premium viewers purchase pieces of their souls to feed insatiable appetites for entertainment. 

It is after filming a commercial for a crossover between their two streams that Adam surprises Shatterstar, pulls him close and kisses him. 

The viewers go wild. Forums and comment sections fill with heart emojis, and within minutes the ship name “Shatterstreme” is trending worldwide. 

The cameras and mics don’t catch the words that Adam mumbles against ’Star’s mouth, words that Shatterstar holds close to his  _ uemer _ , secret and safe. “ _ You’re not alone _ .” 

It’s almost impossible to communicate freely, but pretending to be lovers brings them close enough. Smart move on Adam’s part. Fans eat up the drama of two rival streamers falling in love. 

In Shatterstar’s private quarters (as if “private” even exists anymore), Adam kisses his mouth and his neck, whispering reassurances and revolution close to his ear so the hovering cameras can’t pick it up. They don’t fuck, and the audience has not demanded it (not yet). The closeness is nice. 

In whispers pressed against each other’s skin, they strategize. Shatterstar learns from Adam that there are others among the top streamers desperate to put an end to the violence, to the ongoing cycle of creation, subjugation and execution. 

Adam reminds him that Spiral cannot be willingly working for Mojo, but even so, Shatterstar finds it hard to trust her. He’s not sure he even really trusts Adam. But he has missed the touch and gaze of another person for too long to turn the other man away. 

He wishes the messages he transmits were reaching someone. He wishes his friends and loved ones (family) back home could see him and know what was happening. He is the most famous live streamer in the Mojoverse, yet he feels anonymous. Always seen, always watched, and never by the ones he longs to see him. 

He shares this, and Adam meets his eyes and says, firmly, “I see you.” He says it again, clutching Shatterstar close. “ _ I see you _ .” 

Adam is splicing together the latest atrocities for his channel. Shatterstar sits on the floor of the studio, hugging his knees into his chest. “When I die,” he says numbly, “more like me will follow.” 

Adam’s eyes cut toward him before he looks back at the screen in front of him. “That’s right,” he says, forcing an upbeat tone. “That’s what’s so great about the cloning process. We get to leave legacies behind.” 

“Legacies,” Shatterstar says. All around him and around Adam, cameras swarm and swivel, eager eyes and ears reluctant to miss a single juice detail. “My fath—”

“Shatterstar,” Adam says, very fast and sharp. He pushes his chair away and sinks down to sit in front of Shatterstar on the floor, eyes wide and worried, jaw clenched tight. “You know why we work so well together? When I showed up on Earth way back when, without any memory of where I came from… I got to make up my whole life as I went along. Fighting, flying… everything was new and exciting to me. Because… because I didn’t have a past.” 

His eyes are blazing as he holds Shatterstar’s attention, talks loud enough for the audience to catch everything. All Shatterstar can think of is how disappointed Longshot would be in him. 

“We don’t have pasts, Shatterstar,” Adam says, hands coming up to grip his. “No mothers. No fathers. And… and nothing to hold us back. Isn’t that wonderful?” 

Shatterstar squeezes his hands tight enough to hurt, but Adam doesn’t flinch. Shatterstar understands, even through his misery, that Adam is protecting him. If he were to mention Longshot’s name, Mojo would have him locked up and mindwiped for sure. (He thinks, sometimes, that he longs for this. The blankness. The ignorance.) 

“Yes,” Shatterstar says, making himself smile. “It’s wonderful.” 

Later, beneath the scalding spray of the shower, Adam works conditioner into Shatterstar’s hair. (It must gleam beneath the stadium lights, or the hair care brand that sponsors his channel will be displeased.) Adam combs fingers through Shatterstar’s wet, tangled hair. Shatterstar pretends this is only intimacy, not survival. Pretends that there are not premium subscribers tuning in to this moment. 

“I’m sorry,” Shatterstar says quietly, masked beneath the sound of the water. He is learning to speak without moving his lips too much. “I was weak.”

“Shh.” Adam’s fingertips are gentle against his scalp. “You were human,” he says. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

It would be so much easier if there were a simple objective. Idiotic and evil he was, Arcade was at least predictable. When he captured Shatterstar and Adam-X, what feels like a lifetime ago, his tricks and traps were all fairly simple. Arcade was a villain who could be outsmarted, evaded, defeated. 

If Mojo dies, another Mojo takes his place. His wishes are carried out, not by a gaggle of robots and one unenthusiastic assistant, but by an entire dimension. Arize, the Spineless Ones, the imperial guard, every member of the audience… they’re all a part of Mojo’s will. 

Now Shatterstar and Adam-X are part of it, too. (Complicit, Shatterstar thinks.) No matter how much they scheme in secret, no matter how reluctant they are to contribute to and broadcast all this lurid violence, they still do it. 

“What ever happened to her?” Adam asks him one night, curled around him in bed. “Your wife. Windsong.” 

“I don’t know.” He speaks softly, quietly, his mouth hidden behind Adam’s long hair. As insatiable as the audience is, they are also fickle. When Adam and Shatterstar lie still enough and stay quiet enough, watchers grow tired and switch to more exciting shows. Most of them do. Of course some still watch, of course some are recording all of this in hopes of catching something tragic or scintillating or hilarious. “I hope that she escaped all of this, but…”

He grows silent. Adam nudges him. “But?”

“But I am afraid to search for the answers,” Shatterstar admits. “I imagine her healthy and whole, somewhere far away. I don’t want to stop imagining.” 

Adam hums against his skin, understanding. 

“And you?” Shatterstar says. “Is there anybody you imagine?” It’s not really fair, as it’s a different question than Adam asked. 

Though he’s never met Windsong, Shatterstar does feel a sense of comradery for her. (A debt.) But he does not love her. Hers is not the face he pictures when his faux smile becomes too hard to put on. 

“You’ve met her,” Adam says. “Michelle.”

“I… ?”

“Neurotap,” Adam says, breathes the name. He will not let the mutant-hungry audience track her down. “Strong Industries.”

“Oh,” Shatterstar says, remembering. “Oh.” (Remembering shared quarters, a mission, Mexico, the endless desert. A hand holding his as the road rumbles beneath their wheels.) “What happened to her?”

“Don’t know,” Adam says. “Lost track. … Probably for the best.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“I’m sorry anyway.” 

  
  


(Adam is strong, but not always. In the moments between moments, he admits to Shatterstar that he is frightened. That he hates himself for what he has been forced to do. That he doesn’t see any way out of this place. Shatterstar presses his lips to Adam’s forehead, a gentle kiss like a mark of protection. He reminds Adam that all either of them has ever wanted was a life worth fighting for, and that those lives are still out there waiting for their return.)

Shatterstar is with Adam when Sofia Mantega dies. They watch the livestream together, matching bland expressions trying to hide the horror beneath the surface. Sofia says, “Let’s give the people what they want,” and delivers the audience her own grisly death. 

Clone assistants of Arize’s swoop in to retrieve her corpse. The cameras inch closer to Shatterstar and Adam— surely they will have some interesting reaction to this exciting new development, surely they are already planning how to recapture the audience’s attention with memorable performances on their own channels. 

“She put on a good show.” Adam forces the words through clenched teeth.

“She did,” Shatterstar agrees. He leans forward, sweeps Adam’s hair aside to kiss his cheek. When he’s close enough, he whispers, “I need to do something.”

“I know,” Adam says. 

  
  


After the averted autopsy, after X-Factor leaves, after, after, after, Shatterstar finds himself in Adam’s arms. “She will wake up safe,” he says, repeats it because he needs to believe it himself. “Safe, and on Earth and among friends.” 

“Then it was worth it.”

“It was worth it,” Shatterstar agrees, wanting to cry but afraid he can’t do it quietly enough. Something roars beneath his skin, lost and lonely. “I wanted to,” he starts, his whisper choking off, “I wanted to go with them. I wanted to go with them.” 

Adam kisses the worry lines on his brow, and it is not an act or a cover for some other action. It is nothing but comfort. “I know,” Adam says. 


End file.
